


I'm Here

by headofmarimo



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Akira is trying to make Ryuji take better care of himself, Comfort, Cuddling, Help I don't know how to write emotions, Kissing, Like please why must you always use yourself as a meat shield, M/M, Minor Injuries, Self-Worth Issues, Soft-Serve fic, medical treatment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 18:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14478333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/headofmarimo/pseuds/headofmarimo
Summary: After Ryuji gets beaten up by his former teammates, Akira decides to take responsibility.





	I'm Here

**Author's Note:**

> (Hey guys!!  
> Soooooo, not gonna lie, this is just some cheesy, feel-good fic I wrote to deal with the fact that Ryuji goes through way too much bullshit and Akira doesn't even do anything to stop it in-game.  
> I can't write emotions, but I hope you enjoy reading!)

When the blows and kicks finally stopped, Ryuji found himself curled up on the ground, the world a shapeless mass of colorful spots and blobs while his body ached in a million different places. The sound of footsteps hastily bounding away indicated that Nakaoka and Takeishi had already taken off to avoid the chance of being spotted by a teacher, leaving just him and Akira in the field.

“Oww…” groaned Ryuji before gingerly placing his forearm on the ground to support his weight. He slowly lifted himself back up and winced at the feeling of bruised skin dragging across the ground until he was finally back on his feet.

“Jeez, didn’t think they were actually gonna take what I said so seriously,” muttered Ryuji as he brushed the dirt off his uniform. Ryuji placed a hand over his shoulder and started to gently massage right where Takeishi had landed a particularly hard kick, but he stopped once he noticed Akira. Akira’s eyes were fixed right on him, his mouth pressed tightly into a thin line and his body fixed rigidly in place.

Ryuji withdrew his hand, and instead of grimacing at the sight of a bluish bruise already starting to form at the spot,  he put on a smile for Akira. “Heh, nothing I can’t handle though.” he boasted playfully. Ryuji walked towards Akira and slung his arm around Akira’s shoulder. “Seriously though, I take good care of this face, and look what ended up happenin’ to it,” he complained, trying to lighten up the mood.

His words were only greeted with silence. Why wasn’t Akira saying anything? Ryuji glanced at Akira and noticed that his fist was clenched tightly by his side, gray eyes downcast and avoiding his gaze.

“Hey…” started Ryuji as he pulled in Akira closer. “Look man, it’s fine. I’ve had worse before, and honestly, I’m okay with this since it at least made those two feel better for all the shit I dragged them through.” Still silence, and Ryuji huffed in exasperation. “Akira, it’s no big deal. Seriously! I pretty much deserved what I got,” protested Ryuji. He just couldn’t understand. He got what he had coming and everything turned out alright! So why was Akira still worked up?

“Ryuji,” Akira finally stated, still not looking him in the eye. “Let’s go to my place,”

“Huh? Why?”

Akira actually turned to look at him this time. "I…want to hang out some more.” A small smile was tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Ryuji grinned. Good to see that Akira was back to his usual self. “Sure, not like I had anything else to do.”

* * *

He should’ve done something. Instead, Akira had simply stood there and watched as those two pummeled his best friend into the ground. Why hadn’t he done something?

By the time Nakaoka and Takeishi had left, Akira finally snapped out of his trance with half a mind to chase after the bastards and beat the crap out of them, and it took the sight of Ryuji still lying in the dirt to remind himself that his friend was still his first priority.

But Ryuji was already pushing himself back up before Akira could even offer his hand, and the more Akira stood there, watching Ryuji’s dust-streaked form rub at aching flesh, the more shame washed over him, guilt gnawing away at his chest.

And then Ryuji, somehow still thinking of others over himself, even tried to comfort him, assure him that things were perfectly fine because he had _deserved_ to get beaten up.

Akira really couldn’t stand it.

 After they entered the café, Akira and Ryuji gave a brief greeting to Sojiro before walking up the stairs. Akira could see the surprise that flitted across Sojiro’s face when he saw Ryuji’s battered form, but he didn’t say anything about it.

Once they were inside the attic, Akira silently motioned for Ryuji to have a seat on the sofa, and afterwards Akira crouched down in front of the metal rack beside it to gain better access to the lower shelves.

He could sense Ryuji’s curiosity as the other boy slowly settled himself into the cushions, but Ryuji didn’t say a word as Akira began rummaging through the rack, casually leaning against the back of the couch. Akira shifted through various boxes until he found the one he wanted, and from the box he pulled out several pads of cotton, a pack of adhesive bandages, and a bottle of an ointment made by Tae before also sitting on the couch. Akira dabbed the ointment onto a cotton pad while Ryuji watched.

“Dude, why are you—“ Ryuji’s question was cut off once Akira started smearing the cotton pad over a particularly tender bruise on his face. “Ow! H-hey, cut it out—yuck! That smells effin’ nasty!”

Akira ignored his protests and continued smearing the ointment across Ryuji’s injuries. He took an adhesive bandage with his other hand and tore open the packet with his teeth before sticking it over a shallow cut below Ryuji’s eye, and afterwards he took a clean pad and repeated the process for any more scrapes and bruises he saw. His arms, his chest, his shoulders, damn, just how many did those two leave?

“Akira!” Ryuji finally pushed him away when he tried to lift up his shirt. “Seriously, quit treating me like I’m dying!”

Akira simply stared at him for a moment, inspecting the bruised and bandaged face flushed with embarrassment. “No,” he stated flatly before suddenly yanking up Ryuji’s shirt, swabbing the cotton pad on the bruises streaked across his torso.

Ryuji yelped when he felt his shirt stretched upward, but this time he didn’t resist, glaring at Akira sullenly instead.

“You know, these would’ve healed on their own,” muttered Ryuji, wincing as he felt the pad brush against a bruise on his oblique.

“That’s not the point,” snapped Akira as he released his shirt and started working on his legs. “This is going to make sure they heal cleanly.” He finished up his legs, and Ryuji stared at him as he placed the last bandage over Ryuji’s knee.

“Um, t-thanks…” mumbled Ryuji while Akira sat back up; he inspected the bandage across his forearm, but was interrupted when he felt Akira grab his shoulders.

“H-huh?” blustered Ryuji, and suddenly he was being pulled in towards Akira and his face was getting peppered with kisses. “Agh, h-hey!”

Akira refused to relent, using both hands to cup Ryuji’s face instead, crinkling his bandage as he pulled him in for a crushing kiss on the lips that had Ryuji practically melting.

Akira eventually pulled away, and the fire burning in his gray eyes would’ve been enough to make Ryuji gulp if he wasn’t so kiss-loopy.

“Don’t _ever_ do something like that again,” growled Akira.

“D-do what?”

Akira’s bottom lip curled, and it almost looked like he was _pouting_. Akira Kurusu, the dauntless leader of the Phantom Thieves, making the face of a five-year old who didn’t get the ice-cream flavor that he wanted.

“Don’t act like you don’t know! I mean you need to cut it out with the whole self-deprecating bullshit!”

“But I ain’t…” started Ryuji before he was silenced by Akira pressing a finger to his lips.

“Just listen. For as long as I’ve known you, Ryuji, you’ve always been one of the most damn selfless people I’ve ever met, but that’s also going to be your downfall. Every time someone’s been in distress, you've used your own body as either a shield or a punching bag, but that's not always the answer!” Akira’s other hand was digging into his shirt. “You keep saying stuff like how you deserve to get beaten up or that you don’t care what happens to you as long as it helps the people you care about, and sometimes I can’t stand that mentality of yours! It’s hiding the fact that there are so many incredible things about you that would all be lost if you weren’t around!” The grip on his shirt was tightening. “And even if you don’t think you amount to much, at the very least, if you keep using yourself like a tool, then eventually there won’t be anything left of you for the people that care about you.” Akira was shaking a little. “And really, that’s about the most damn selfish thing you could do.”

Ryuji stared at him. It was rare to see Akira slip in composure, whether it was in the Metaverse or in reality, always keeping a steady front for the people who needed it, but now…

“Ryuji, helping others is great, but at the same time, don’t let yourself turn into a doormat, please.” And Akira’s hugging him, soft curls tickling the crook of Ryuji’s neck. “Or else I will personally kick your ass for not loving yourself enough.”

Ryuji held  back a snort of laughter at the absurdity in Akira’s threat, but at least he knew that Akira meant well, was concerned for him, cared about him…

He could feel Akira nuzzling his cheek into his shoulder.

“And, I also want to say I’m sorry…” mumbled Akira. “I should’ve stopped those two from beating you up.”

“Hey, don’t be.” replied Ryuji gently. “Not like I did anything to stop them either.”

He could feel Akira lightly running his fingertips over his back, carefully skating across the  shoulder blades while he held Ryuji even closer.

“Sheesh, someone’s in a cuddly mood today,” teased Ryuji.

“Mm, it’s ‘cause I need to do a better job showing how much I love you,” replied Akira.

“Ack, since when did you get all sappy?” griped Ryuji, cringing at Akira’s open sentiment, although he couldn’t deny that hearing those words made his heart swell a little.

“Since you stopped properly taking care of yourself,” shot back Akira.

“Ugh…” groaned Ryuji, wrapping his arms around Akira in return. He allowed himself to fall backwards onto the arm of the couch, Akira carefully following him down to avoid pressing any sore spots, and the two of them laid side-by-side on the couch, limbs tangled together.

“Second thought, I guess doing something like this ain’t so bad after all,” murmured Ryuji; he grinned mischievously at Akira. “I should let myself get beat up more often.”

Akira glared at him.

“Kidding, kidding! My bad…” mumbled Ryuji as he gave an apologetic kiss. “But if you’re really so worried, then I’ll try to start using my head more instead of my gut. No promises though.”

“Thank you,” sighed Akira as he returned the kiss.

Neither of them felt like moving afterward, lazily drifting off into the quiet atmosphere of the evening.

Ryuji slid a hand through Akira’s hair, gently cradling his head, and for the first time in a while Ryuji remembered what it felt like to rely on someone. The fact that he could open up to Akira without the risk of being torn apart was just something he was _so_ grateful for. Akira had been the one who reminded him that it was okay to stand up for himself, and Ryuji would always be grateful for that.

They were there for each other.

**Author's Note:**

> (The next day, Futaba was a bit nicer to Ryuji, much to his confusion, and much to Akira's embarrassment, she kept swooning and joking about the reminiscences of young love whenever she saw him.  
> The end-results of Shido's palace were also met with a scolding from Akira, but not before a crushing group-hug that left Ryuji wheezing.  
> Thanks for reading!)


End file.
